


The Raven Killer

by DeyaAmaya



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Alternate Universe - Serial Killers, But there's a lot of Jerejean I promise, Dark, Happy Ending, M/M, Murder, Oral Sex, initial Riko/Jean, sort of infidelity I think?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-14
Updated: 2019-02-14
Packaged: 2019-10-28 08:39:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17784146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeyaAmaya/pseuds/DeyaAmaya
Summary: There is a moment before rain, before storm, when nature is holding its breath. A veil of hush is spread, suddenly the sky is backlit by the sun and then, the first flash of lightning, the first splash of rain.Jean Moreau is that moment, caught in a prison of flesh and blood.





	The Raven Killer

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Fornavn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fornavn/gifts).



> This is my entry for the Aftg Exchange, Valentine round 2019. This little JereJean piece is for Fornavn who's absolutely AMAZING and keeps the fandom beautiful as f. I picked Jeremy/Jean an dark/angst with happy ending from your prompts. Hope you like it! Happy Valentine's Day <3
> 
> Btw this fic hasn't been checked over by a beta so anything wrong with it is completely my fault!

When asked, Jeremy Knox wouldn’t describe Jean Moreau with colors, like most people do. He wouldn't say, _here, look at this coffee, Jean has hair like this_. He wouldn't serve you a stick of butter and compare it to Jean's skin. He definitely wouldn't try finding a shade worthy of explaining the otherworldly luminosity of Jean's eyes.

 

Instead, he would say _this_.         

 

There is a moment before rain, before storm, when nature is holding its breath. A veil of hush is spread, suddenly the sky is backlit by the sun and then, the first flash of lightning, the first splash of rain.

 

Jean Moreau is that moment, caught in a prison of flesh and blood. 

 

This is what Jeremy Knox thought, every morning when he saw Jean Moreau cross the road to the minuscule coffee shop Jeremy owned. Ever since Jeremy started working as a barista/cafe owner, Jean has taken a liking to the chocolate croissants. Reminds him of home, he says and blushes faintly.

 

Jeremy shouldn’t, _really_. He shouldn’t like that hint of pink on pearly skin, shouldn’t like the sight of Jean every morning. He shouldn’t even be thinking of Jean Moreau. It was very unprofessional. But it's been months and there had been a hundred mornings and Jeremy can't remember a morning without Jean.

 

Today isn't an exception. Yes, Jeremy’s mind is restless with frantic worry. Yes, he feels desperate for a solution to his biggest predicament. Yes, he knows he can't do this anymore. 

 

But his smile doesn't falter. He brews Jean's coffee with care, serves it up with two croissants, as always. He takes out the blue tray that Jean likes. Jean returns Jeremy's smile with one of his rare ones.

 

‘Thank you, Jeremy,’ his voice is just a whisper, again, today. Jeremy can see a purple bruise almost completely covered by a bulky scarf. Almost but not quite.

 

‘How's your boyfriend doing?’ Jeremy asks when they're running out of small talk.

 

Jean stiffens almost immediately, reaching up to wrap the scarf tighter around his neck.

 

‘Good, he's….. he's good, as always, Jeremy.’

 

And Jeremy hates _him_. He hates Riko Moriyama, so much.          

 

                                                                                                                   -------------

 

Here's what Jeremy knows about Jean Moreau's long-term boyfriend Riko Moriyama. Riko is the second son of the Business Tycoon Kengo Moriyama. Riko’s elder brother Ichirou is the crown prince of their empire, leaving Riko free to live a life of debauchery. Riko takes full advantage of it. He's called for modelling once in a while. But he doesn't actually _work_ , as far as Jeremy can't tell. Yet, he's busy everyday, if partying could be called being busy.

 

Jean is almost the exact opposite. He's never seen with Riko at his parties. Instead he works as cleric at the kindergarten opposite the shop Jeremy works at. He's been together with Riko for seven years.                    

 

Jeremy also knows, every night that Riko spends in his own house, he leaves a bruise on Jean. Jeremy finds the bruises, catalogues them and wraps up the memory in a coat of fury.

 

                                                                                                          ----------------------

 

Jean views his life as a long, endless nightmare, interspaced by little moments when he feels awake, alive, hopeful. Moments like these, having a warm drink and basking in Jeremy's presence.

 

When he was young, he used to hope for a life that would always be good. He hated his abusive parents. As soon as he could think for himself he had made plans to leave them someday. And he thought he'd done it, too. One fine morning in April, he met Riko Moriyama, a bright eyed teen just like him. Jean, young and naive Jean was fascinated. He thought it was love for sure. Riko let him believe it was love, too. In reality, Jean left one nightmare and entered another.

 

It wasn't clear to him, at first. Riko was nicer than his parents. Riko was the place to call home, the face he wake up to, the person he centered his life around. It wasn't easy for him to see the bigger picture.

 

Yes, Riko got angry, a lot. Yes, Riko hurt him, a lot. But Riko apologized and cried and said he loved Jean too much. Jean believed him.  Jean thought this was okay. He thought he could live this life.

 

Then came the _bloodshed_.

 

A few months after Jean moved in, Riko apparently deemed Jean loyal enough, or gullible enough, who knows. One night he simply came home with a stranger, proceeded to take him into Jean and Riko's bedroom and slaughter him like a pig. 

 

Jean couldn’t remember the first time quite well. The only clear thing was the boy's face. He was a fresh faced teen, wide eyed and innocent the way Jean himself was, once. His slit throat was leaking blood all over Riko's bedspread. Jean was too numb to cry. But he did what Riko told him to do. He cleaned up the blood. erased the cctv footage, burned the linens. But he didn't touch the body.  

 

Riko was gone in the morning. There was almost no evidence left of that horrifying night. Jean spent hours and hours curled up in the attic wondering if Riko was sick? If it was a wrong decision he'd made?

 

Jean didn’t have to wait long. Riko killed again in six months. This time it was a girl of perhaps sixteen. Jean tried to beg Riko and got a slashed wrist. After breaking the girl's neck, Riko took his boyfriend to the nearest hospital and got him treated for a mishap in the kitchen, I keep telling you be careful, love.

 

Years passed, and this happened again, and again, and _again_.

 

                                                                                                                -----------

 

Jean often asks himself why he doesn't just leave and tell the police, tell _anyone_ , that his lover is the serial killer known as Raven, because he always leaves a shiny black feather with the dead body dropped in a ditch somewhere. Jean didn't, couldn’t- tell anyone the first time mostly out of horror. But later? What stopped him from speaking up in the four years that Riko had been killing?    

 

No, it wasn't the fear of prison or a death sentence. Jean had proof that it was Riko, he'd kept all the footage from the second time. He'd kept them safe. He'd saved a bit of blood from every victim while Riko went out. Their house was too big, Riko never moved a single finger to clean it. He would never find these evidences. These would be enough to prove what Riko did, what he was.

 

A monster.

 

But Jean kept adding to the pile of his evidence, never gathering up enough courage to show someone or leave. 

 

_ Why? _

 

_ ‘You have nowhere to go, Jean. What, you'd go back to your parents? You think they want you? No one wants you, Jean.’ _

 

It was Riko's voice that said these things in his head, and they were all true, weren’t they? Where could Jean go? Riko was his whole world.

 

Jean had thought about death, about offering himself up to Riko one of those nights when he raged about not finding a suitable lamb to slaughter. But then, who would remember the faces of all the boys and girls Riko killed? Who would keep gathering evidence?

 

So Jean didn't kill himself and he didn't kill Riko, didn't stop him from killing others, didn't go to the police. Maybe his life would've gone on just like that, till Riko bored of him. But that sunny, airy Thursday, something changed.

 

Riko brought home Kevin.

 

                                                                                               ------------------------

 

Jean tried to plead, reason, coerce and even bribe.

 

‘Riko, Riko you can't!’ he hissed while Riko hummed a tune and added a crushed up sedative in Kevin's vodka. ‘Kevin is a policeman! He's our childhood friend! It's too risky, you could get caught! Please, just send him away. I'll go look for… for another one. For you. Riko, please! Not Kevin!’      

 

Riko went on as if he hadn't heard Jean. The tea was served. Kevin was all smiles as he downed one drink after another. 

 

‘Y’know Riko, e’ryone says you're a spoiled brat but I see, I see you,’ Kevin declared, well on his way to getting drunk . ‘Your life's ssso good! You have a home and lovely, lovely Jean to come home to, mmm hmm? You're so lucky!’      

 

This was like all the nightmares that came before. But Jean could feel more and more terror trickle through his veins as he watched Kevin slowly fall asleep. Riko was in the kitchen, picking which knife to use. He was going to kill Kevin, their darling friend Kevin who was snotty and obnoxious and uptight but he didn't deserve to die. Riko was going to kill him like all the others and drop off his corpse like all the others….

 

No.

 

_ Not Kevin. _

 

Jean wouldn't let it happen, not this time.

 

He entered the kitchen. Riko had his back to the door. He trusted Jean so much.

 

‘Babe, you didn't wash the serrated one properly last time, there's rust on the handle.’ Riko chided mildly, putting down a knife and picking up a larger one.

 

‘I'm sorry, Riko.’

 

‘That's ok, love. I'll just-’

 

Jean felt a little foolish about hitting Riko with the cast iron pan. But it was heavy and knocked Riko out readily. Jean spent a moment worrying if he was dead. Then he shook himself and ran to get the car. He had so much work to do.           

 

                                                                                                                ----------

 

Jeremy's little coffee shop closed late on rainy nights as more people craved a warm drink in their palms. Jeremy closed it around 10 that Thursday, going up to the attic that was his living space. It was small and rather messy, but warm. Jeremy was about to get under the blankets when he heard someone knocking loudly on the door downstairs. Ugh, he has to go out in the cold again.

 

He's cursing and shivering when he opens the door, only to find Jean Moreau. Jean Moreau, soaking in rain and shaking like a leaf, on Jeremy's doorstep. 

 

_ Is this reality?  _

 

How many nights had Jeremy dreamt of Jean coming to him, to Jeremy, at the dead of night? But this isn't a dream, is it? Jean looks like death warmed over.

 

‘What are you doing here?’

 

He doesn’t get an answer right away. Jean's eyes look wide with terror and pain. He lifts a shaking hand to touch Jeremy's face. 

 

‘Nothing, I just, just wanted to see you. I'll…. I have to go.’

 

Jeremy grips his wrist before Jean can move away. ‘No, don't. Stay here.’

 

‘What?’

 

‘Stay, stay here. It's not safe to drive in this downpour. And you'll catch your death in those clothes,’ Jeremy swallows down a wave of nerves. ‘Come inside, Jean.’       

 

\---------

 

In the dimly lit attic with it's sugar and cinnamon smell, Jeremy could almost believe this was a fantasy his stressed brain had conjured. Jean was in his shower while Jeremy struggled to find clothes big enough for the man. By the time he found a stretched out pair of sweatpants and a bulky hoodie, almost half an hour had passed and the shower was quiet.

 

‘Jean,’ Jeremy called. ‘Jean, are you okay?’ 

 

No answer. Jeremy's felt worry clawing in his stomach. The door opened easily. He found Jean’s tall frame folded down in the bathtub. He looked over at Jeremy as he entered, face blank.

 

Jeremy put the clothes next to the toilet sink. ‘Jean, why didn't you close the door?’ he asked.

 

‘Riko doesn't like it.’

 

_Riko doesn’t like it_ , he says. What else doesn't Riko like, Jeremy wonders. What had Jean done that made Riko mad enough to hurt him like this? Jean's torso was painted black and blue. Some week-old knife scars, some scars old and silvery, some mottled and wide bruises that could only come from a leather belt.   

 

‘Did Riko do that to you?’ Jeremy asks, knowing the answer. Jean looks at him for a long second.

 

‘Yes,’ Jean whispered, ‘Yes, Jeremy. It was Riko. Yes,’ he chuckled a little. ‘You know, I never told anyone, in the last seven years, that it was Riko. You're the first. Thank you.’

 

‘Is that why you came here tonight? To get away from him?’ Jeremy had to know. He was sitting on the floor besides the tub, getting his clothes wet but he could see Jean so well, could see the almost invisible silvery scars across his jawline. How had he not noticed before?

‘Tonight,’ Jean closed his eyes and looking green.  ‘Riko was, he was…’

 

‘It's ok,’ Jeremy touched his shoulder. ‘You don't have to tell me.’

 

‘I'll tell you, I promise I'll tell you  but not now.’ Jean leaned closer to Jeremy. ‘I came to you because you're the opposite of him. You're sunlight and warmth while he's pain and darkness and I'm so tired, Jeremy. You make me forget the pain. Just let me stay near you, tonight.’

 

Jean's breath brushed over Jeremy’ lips. Did he imagine Jean looking down at his lips? Did he imagine the smoky _want_ in those eyes?

 

Jean's rosy lips parted, and Jeremy didn't stop to think, to ask. It was only a matter of closing the last few inches. 

 

Jean was waiting for the kiss, it seemed. He kissed back after a startled second, wet fingers clutching Jeremy's hair. Closer, closer. Jeremy wanted to soak Jean into his skin. Jean nipped at his lower lip and Jeremy groaned, the little stab of pleasure-pain going straight south. Jean pulled on his hair. 

 

‘Climb up,’ he said, breathless and impatient.

 

Climb… did Jean mean…. the bathtub? The bathtub where Jean is sitting, _naked_. Jeremy's brain went completely still. 

 

‘Come on, Jeremy. I need you… closer, please.’ 

 

And who was Jeremy to deny him? If it was a bad idea to kiss him, it was an worse idea to go further, he was someone else's, he was Riko's but Jeremy would rather die than allow an inch of space between them right now.

 

Jean helped to pull of his vest and shorts, then Jeremy is stepping into the lukewarm water, settling on Jean's lap, skin to skin. Jean pulled him into a kiss again, but it was explosive, this time. Jeremy poured his desperation into it. _Can't you see I need you, too? Can't you tell I love you? Can't you just be mine?_

 

Jean came up for air with a gasp, his face glowing with a blush brighter than Jeremy had ever seen. Jeremy kissed down the pale column of Jean's throat, nipping over the throbbing pulse. Jean moaned, his hips bucking into Jeremy's and oh, oh, Jeremy's had _enough_. 

 

‘Stand up,’ he urges. ‘Stand up, Jean. To the wall… yes….  that's it.’

 

Jean stands, backed onto the tiles and he's so beautiful it takes Jeremy's breath away. He kisses a trail over Jean's less bruised thigh, stopping to suck his own mark just below his hip bone. Jean is a moaning, shivering mess already. Jeremy takes a few seconds to assess and admire his cock, then puts his mouth and a hand to work. 

 

It doesn't take too long. Jeremy is enthusiastic, almost impatient. Jean is incoherent and loud, his voice reverberating in the tiny bathroom, ringing like music in Jeremy's ears. He stiffens right before climaxing, giving Jeremy a chance to pull away. He slides down into the water again, pleasure and bliss written in his face.

 

Jeremy drains the water out of the bath and cleans up both of them. He's still so hard, but finding his own pleasure can wait a little longer.

 

Neither bother with clothes, choosing to  slip under Jeremy's pile of blankets instead. Jean spoons him from behind, rubbing a hand over his arm to warm him up. ‘ _Mon soleil_ ,’ he whispers to Jeremy. ‘you don’t know, I have wanted you for so long.’

_I have loved you for so long_ , Jeremy wants to say. _I have wanted you for even longer_. Jean's hands travel down Jeremy's shoulders, over his chest, stomach and down, down. 

 

Jeremy would just tell him in the morning.

 

                                                                                                                      ------------

The morning is fresh and crisp like newly washed laundry. It's still a little cold. Jeremy wraps the blankets a little tighter around himself. They smell like Jean.

 

Jean!

 

He's missing from the bed, from the whole attic as far as Jeremy can tell. He's up and dressed in a minute, rushing downstairs to check. Jean isn't in the shop either. But he's left a note, atop a nondescript plastic box .

 

_ Jeremy, _

 

_ You have been the best thing in my entire life. I still can't quite believe last night was real. It was a beautiful dream, the most beautiful I've ever had. _

 

_This box holds evidence that Riko Moriyama is the Raven killer. They can prove that he's murdered 13 innocent teenagers in the past 4 years. Take these to the local police station and tell them last night Riko tried to kill Officer Kevin Day, who is at the Allen Medical Center near the station.  - Jean Moreau_

 

                                                                                                            -----------

 

Every step Jean took away from Jeremy's little cafe felt like one more knife added to the wound in his chest.

 

Last night was the only dream in his life full of nightmares and that is all Jean could afford, could allow himself to indulge in because he was just as guilty as Riko, wasn't he? He'd allowed Riko to kill so many people. What if one of them was someone's Jeremy, someone's Kevin? No, he couldn’t let this go on any longer.

 

Jeremy was warm and pliant after sex, sleeping deeply. He was asleep when Jean had slipped out of the bed in the morning. Jean hoped he would wake up soon and take the evidence to police. Riko probably won't stay in the town after getting rid of Jean.      

 

The front door is open. Jean slips in quietly.

 

Riko is sipping coffee in the kitchen. 

 

‘Hello, darling,’ he smiles at Jean. ‘Slept well? That's a lovely hickey, by the way. Where'd you get it?’   

 

Jean doesn't answer. Perhaps Riko can read his confusion, because he lets out a short bark of laughter. 

 

‘Why are you acting like the world is ending? So Kevin got away. Big deal. No one will doubt me when I say he'd just had too much to drink.’

 

He stands and shoves the mug away.

 

‘But you, darling… Not only did you hit me, you also ran off to Jeremy. And on _Valentine’s Day!_  How could you, Jean? I'm wounded,’ he widened his eyes in a parody of hurt and Jean wanted to throw up. _Jeremy. Riko knows it was Jeremy._

 

‘How did you know?’ Jean grits out.

 

Riko laughs. ‘How could I not? Do you have any idea how you two look at each other? Holy fuck, it's nauseating!’  he casually picks up a knife from the sink. ‘Look.A dirty knife for a faithless lover, isn't that perfect, Jean?’ he lunged.

 

Jean almost didn't move in time. The knife grazed the side of his hip while he tumbled over the kitchen island, crouching down and picking up a light wooden stool. He swung it at Riko's hand. Riko cursed and backed away, clutching his hand. The knife slid under the fridge. But there was way too many knives in the kitchen, there was one or more in each drawer, cupboard and shelf. They were Riko's favourite weapon, after all. But Riko didn't go for a knife. He looked at Jean with wonder in his eyes.

 

‘You… you hit me!’

 

The wonder disappears, black rage taking its place.

 

‘I have loved you all these years and you dare…!’

 

‘I don't love you anymore!’ Jean tells him. ‘I stopped loving you when you first killed Austin.’ 

 

‘Austin? You mean, that idiot back in- You remember their name?’ Riko cackles. ‘You sentimental idiot!’

 

‘Someone has to remember.’

 

‘No, no one has to remember. They just need to remember me, the raven killer!’

 

‘Thanks for the confession, Mr. Moriyama. Now put your hand up, slowly.’

 

_ What the fuck. _

 

Riko recovered faster than Jean did. ‘Hello, Knox. What are you doing in my house?’

 

Jeremy kept his gun pointed at Riko. ‘Oh, just arresting you for first degree murder, Moriyama. By the way Jean, get out of here. Kevin's waiting to have a word with you.’

 

Riko's face contorted with fury. ‘You have no proof!’

 

‘I have four years of proof, actually.’

 

Riko's eyes widened. ‘Four years? Four years! Jean!’ 

 

He lunged at Jean with murder in his eyes, his hands closing around Jean's throat like a steel trap and Jean couldn't breathe, couldn’t shake him off. He could feel sight and sound slipping away. 

 

The last thing he could hear was a gunshot.    

 

                                                                                                                    ----------

 

‘You both are such idiots!’ 

 

Jean and Kevin winced. They were waiting on the porch of Riko's house, recovering from the hellish  ordeal. Kevin looked a little green still, and Jean had a bandage wrapped around his head. purple bruises blooming on his neck. Just looking at them made Jeremy shudder. They could've died!

 

‘You could've died!’ he yelled at them.

 

‘But-’ 

 

‘No buts Kevin! We knew it was almost time for another Raven killing, yet you went drinking with a mafia brat! You'd be dead if Jean- and you! Don't look relieved! Why the fuck did you go back to Riko? You have a death wish?’

 

Jeremy sat down on the porch floor, feeling ten years older than he was last night.   

 

‘We've been investigating the Raven Killer for a long time, only recently we tracked him back to this area. I've been undercover for, oh, about a year and a half, I think.

‘The thing is, everyone thought it was you, Jean. All the evidence pointed towards you. You're still not out of doubt.’

 

Jeremy felt tears welling in his eyes. He scrubbed a hand over his face, incredibly tired. ‘He's dead now, though. He's dead,’ he sobbed. ‘He won't hurt anyone, ever again. He won't hurt you, Jean.’

 

‘Yeah,’ Kevin sighed and smiled, knocking his shoulder against Jeremy. ‘We're all safe now. You saved us. So calm down you crybaby.’

Jeremy sniffed and reached out, hugging both of them. They clutched each other in relief, in newfound hope.  

 

Yes, inside the house there was a corpse with a bullet in his head. And, yes, the Moriyama family would not be happy about this. There are more trials coming their way, Jeremy knows. But he's ready for whatever comes. They'll get through it together.   

**Author's Note:**

> Come yell at me on Tumblr! I'm Andreil-Minyasten


End file.
